<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Neither Vice nor Virtue (Just Lust and Love) by girlswholikegirlsruletheworld</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27059194">Neither Vice nor Virtue (Just Lust and Love)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlswholikegirlsruletheworld/pseuds/girlswholikegirlsruletheworld'>girlswholikegirlsruletheworld</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Glass Scientists (Webcomic), The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dom/sub Undertones, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Gabriel is just confused, Hyde is slutty, I love Utterson, Internalized Homophobia, Jekyll is Dom fight me, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Non-Canon Relationship, Polyamorous relationship, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:07:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27059194</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlswholikegirlsruletheworld/pseuds/girlswholikegirlsruletheworld</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel John Utterson has always been fine with his "boring" life. It meant peace, and calm, and safety. He had friends, good work, and the respect of the public. He never needed anything more.</p><p>But when he discovers a secret that his childhood friend had kept from him for years, he may find himself just a little discontent. . .</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edward Hyde/Gabriel John Utterson, Edward Hyde/Henry Jekyll, Edward Hyde/Henry Jekyll/Gabriel John Utterson, Henry Jekyll/Gabriel John Utterson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you've read Utterson's chapter from my Drabbles book, skip this first chapter, it's the same one ^-^</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="chapter">
  <p></p>
  <div class="userstuff module">
    <p></p>
    <div class="chapter">
      <p></p>
      <div class="userstuff module">
        <p>Gabriel John Utterson did not scream. Ever. He never raised his voice whether in glee or in anger. He wasn't a coward, either, more prone to trying to solve his own problems instead of running and hiding, either by stifling his emotions or by getting piss-ass drunk. Those methods were for Robert and Henry, respectively, and neither of them really worked for him. In part, it was because he never had many emotions to express, and in part, it was because he was just a touch more mature than both of his more ambitious and emotional friends. He was perfectly stoic and perfectly calm, even when he'd first come up to Jekyll's office and heard muffled moaning from the other side of a strangely unlocked door.</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>But right this second, standing silent as a shadow in the doorway of Jekyll's office, he wanted to scream. And run. And maybe lock himself in his cellar and drink himself into oblivion. He wouldn't even feel guilty for any of it, because it seemed a suitable response to what he'd just witnessed. A suitable response to having watched a perfect stranger very grotesquely <em>transform</em> into a friend he'd known since school and through college. To having watched his dear friend gasp and convulse and grip the edges of a full-length mirror and try to muffle his screams as his bones seemed to tear themselves apart and knit themselves haphazardly back together, only to fall to the ground with a strange green liquid seeping out of his mouth, and only for a piece of him to seemingly be torn from him and spat onto the floor.</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>That was a human person on the floor, he belatedly realised, and not a pile of shaggy straw and flesh. But even so, he didn't think that his observations were invalid, seeing as said human person was completely naked.</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>"We did it, Henry!" the person cheered, seemingly not caring that he hadn't existed until a few moments ago or that he was naked as a penguin. Or that Henry was still slumped against the mirror, looking wild and unfocused. "We can fuse and separate at will! Think of the advantages of that! Now you don't need the potion to be me! And I don't have to stop existing when you're doing your boring ass paperwork!"</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Jekyll, turning over and lying down, gasped for breath. "You don't know that. We still don't know if we can transform at will, whether together or apart." He let out a series of hacking coughs.</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>"I don't care about that!" the person said, looking indignant. I don't want to be you unless you're with me, and I'm insulted that you'd want to be me without me actually being there. Besides, stop being so pessimistic, you fuck! Now we can have the advantages both of being a single person and being separate! You can watch me get fucked without actually being there and you can be the one fucking me! Think on it, Henry! It's glorious!"</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Utterson felt like he was being choked, but blessedly he did not yet bust a lung at the boy's crude language. Or at the insinuation that it would be glorious for Jekyll to be, er, <em>seducing</em>, a man. Jekyll simply chuckled, though, seemingly used to it. "Of course your mind goes to fucking first," he said, sitting up and fondly, <em>fondly</em> taking the person's hand and kissing his palm.</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>The person, with the most scraggly blond hair Utterson had ever seen, gave Jekyll a flat look. "Of course it does; do you know who I am? But may I remind you that it's your mind, too?" And much to the offense of Utterson's utterly virginal Victorian sensibilities, the man had the bloody <em>nerve</em> to spread his <em>completely bare and naked legs</em> before Jekyll! Utterson would've looked away if he could manage, because he'd long realised that seeing a naked man tended to give him the sort of existential crises that he did not particularly like, but the man was simultaneously so repulsive and attractive that he was stuck in limbo, close to screaming and running away but also unable to move. He couldn't decide what to do.</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Jekyll, however, seemed to have no reservations about deciding, for he smiled and took the naked man in his arms, and embraced him and kissed him and <em>bit</em> him and <em>reached down to touch him</em>—! And the man was touching Jekyll too, <em>undressing</em> him and touching him and <em>pleasuring</em> him until they both were gasping into one another's mouths and—<br/> </p>
        <p>Utterson did scream.</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Both the men in erotic embrace shrieked shortly after, in remarkably similar ways — and some part of Utterson's sluggish brain pointed out that of course they'd be similar, <em>they're the same man</em> — and whirled to stare at their unwelcome audience. And under their stares, intense and surprise but also addled with lust, Utterson could do little but whimper, like some common, undignified perverse peasant.</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Strangely, it was the blond man who first spoke. Jekyll, for his part, was frozen where he sat, his shirt messily undone and his trousers open and his face sweaty and blissful. But the blond man easily recovered, giving the lawyer an coy smirk and yet again spreading his legs, and though Utterson fought to keep from staring, it was quite impossible to tear his eyes away. "Why, John," he drawled, as if he <em>knew</em> Utterson, and perhaps he did, "I don't think I've ever heard you scream. I'm quite honoured that it was for me."</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Utterson flailed, and stumbled back against the doorway, his knees close to buckling. <em>I'll die</em>, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut in humiliation. R<em>ight here. I hope I've done enough to avoid Hell</em>. "You — you don’t know me," he weakly protested. His breaths came quick and shallow.</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>"No, Gabriel, dear," said the man, and Utterson distantly realised that this man must be the Edward Hyde in Jekyll's will, and that his rather strange interest in the man made suddenly all the more sense, but between the man's nakedness and foxlike walk towards him, he couldn't focus on much else. Hyde approached him and whispered right into Utterson's ear, "It is <em>you</em> who doesn’t know <em>me</em>."</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>"B- but you — you are Henry," he stammered, breathy and unbelievably afraid. "I — I know Henry."</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>"Not me," purred Hyde. He played with the hair at Utterson's nape, and Utterson near choked, utterly overwhelmed with an — an arousal that he refused to unpack. "You don't know me. I'm everything that your dear, good, <em>perfect</em> friend Henry Jekyll doesn't let you see." He stared Utterson deep in the eyes, his gaze scorching every bit of skin it glazed over, and his voice dropped a good octave and a half when he spoke next. "I'm loud, reckless, impulsive, crude, and <em>insane</em>. I adore the beasts. I am enamoured with the most dangerous of mad sciences. And best of all. . ."</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>"I want to get dicked down and <em>fucked</em>, harsh and rough and <em>bloody and bruised </em>until the day I <em>die</em>."</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Those crude words might've been what snapped Jekyll out of his stupor, and quickly he rushed over and tugged Hyde away from his old friend. "Hyde! That's —you know what Utterson is! Does! Are you insane!" he shrieked, shrill and panicked, and for a while, a pang of hurt came to Utterson's chest. Did Jekyll not trust him? Had Jekyll not wanted him to know?</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Only then did it come to Utterson that he had walked in on something quite illegal. Ignoring the fact that Jekyll had seemed to somehow split his consciousness, for which there really were no laws and towards which Utterson had many, many conflicting feelings, homosexuality and sodomy were both highly illegal. Penalties ranged from 5-20 years, as of recent amendments, and of course, the social impact was quite staining. And as a lawyer, and one of the best in London, it was his responsibility to impose that penalty.</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>"I — <em>Henry</em>," Utterson stammered. "You can't really think I'll go to the police with this information? Do you really think I'd have you thrown in prison?"</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Jekyll watched him with shifty eyes. "I — I don't know, John," he said. "I can't be sure. And you are in possession of two of my greatest secrets. I — I can't know for sure what you'll do with that knowledge."</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>"Henry, you can't — you can't really think that I'd willingly have you arrested! Do you think so poorly of me?!" Utterson protested. "You are my oldest friend! I would not see your name or, god forbid, your happiness destroyed! Go and sleep with men if you prefer! Bed a common pauper, a clerk, or a criminal, or even Robert if you fancy! I wouldn't have cared! Even if you'd fallen in love with and hid a murderer from the law, I'd protect you still! Why would you ever think otherwise?"</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Jekyll shrugged. "I don't know. I know if — if Robert knew, he wouldn't hesitate. To tell me that it was wrong, that is. God knows why; I know he doesn't practise his religion in sincerity."</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Utterson's face softened. "Oh, Henry," he whispered. "You know how he is. He was raised a certain way, with certain beliefs, and often the compulsion to adhere to those beliefs even if he does not believe them. But I was not. <em>We</em> were not. And even if society at large would despise it — well, I can't ever find it in myself to despise <em>you</em>." And then he gave Hyde a tender smile, at which the man looked shocked at, but flattered all the same. "<em>Any</em> part of you. Be that the part of you that indulges in mad science, or the part of you that indulges in throes of passion and sex."</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Jekyll looked awed at his clear acceptance. "I — really? I would've thought you'd hate me for sure, if you ever found out. You — you're always so perfectly composed, never tempted. I always envied you for that, because there were always this primitive, berserk lust and madness in me that I could never be rid of. I — I couldn't be happy without it."</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>A calm smile came upon the lawyer's face. "Henry, you are my friend. And I assure you, I am nowhere near perfect. I don't have your charisma or intelligence or your undaunted confidence, and — and I think that I share your fondness for the male, uh, anatomy. And if you've ever felt that I would not support you, or that I couldn't possibly understand, or if I was complicit in making you feel as though you couldn't express yourself, your <em>true</em> self, then I am sorry. I care for you more than I care for the law, or for your reputation, and certainly for much more than the act of a gentleman you like to put on. And if you need someone to come to — for comfort or advice or simply to talk to — I am here. You know me. I'm a man to be trusted."</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Close to bursting into tears, Jekyll grinned widely and scooped up Utterson into his arms. "Oh, John," he gasped. "Thank you. So much. So, so, <em>so</em> much."</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>"Always, Henry. Always."</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Their embrace lasted a fair while, in complete silence but for Jekyll's muttered thanks and Utterson's mumbled apologies, until it was broken by Hyde's grinning and purring into both their ears, this time.</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>Smiling cheekily and still utterly <em>naked</em>, Hyde asked, "So does this mean that neither of you would be too bothered if I had John take me against a wall?"</p>
        <p> </p>
        <p>
          <em>"Hyde!"</em>
        </p>
      </div>
    </div>
    <div class="chapter">
      <p></p>
      <div class="chapter preface group">
        <p> </p>
      </div>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Utterson deals with his newly-found knowledge.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p></p>
    <div>
      <p>Gabriel John Utterson knew that he was declared by many to be quite a boring man. After all, he was a stoic, rather apathetic, and silent lawyer with three names, with neither vice nor any great virtue to his name. He did not indulge excessively in alcohol nor sex nor the rather silly parties and dinners he was often asked to attend. He was not offensive, but neither was he ever incredibly helpful outside the court of law. He did not have many external interests besides his law practise, either, besides perhaps his fancy for classical literature and for a casual interest in philosophy. Perhaps the most scandalous parts of his character were that he was from Scotland and not England, or that he had a secret, hidden fancy for adventure stories.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>And compared to both his best friends and even his cousin Richard, none of those seemed particularly exciting.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>He was fine with his mediocrity, truly. He didn't care for excessive vice or virtue, and the rare nights he ventured to the Society for Arcane Sciences was not only exciting enough, but also nerve-wracking enough, what with the judging stares directed at him by the scientists under Jekyll's employ. He didn't blame them at all; he knew many men and women in high society would've undoubtedly sneered at them. For his part, he just nodded politely at them, and then hid away in Jekyll's office for the rest of his visit.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>He'd been visiting much more often than before, though, ever since he'd discovered a certain and still quite perplexing secret that his dear friend had apparently been keeping from not only him, but also everyone else, for two years. The Society and the people there still made him shudder, but the memory of the fear and pain on Henry's face when Utterson accidentally learned of his two greatest secrets — not only that he was attracted to men, and was in a sexual relationship with a wanted arsonist, but also that he'd managed to split his bloody consciousness! — well, his own fear was nothing, suddenly.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>It had been a great effort to process, somehow, the existence of one Edward Hyde. Utterson had had his doubts when Jekyll wrote his will to leave all his possessions to Hyde, but he knew the reason quite plainly, now, and the possibility of blackmail wasn't the issue anymore — rather, it was that Utterson had to reconcile the Henry he had grown up with and known all through college, and now, the wild, hyperactive, crude, and utterly sluttish Edward Hyde that was apparently all of Jekyll's base desires personified.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>Now, wild and hyperactive and utterly (heh) reckless, Utterson had expected. He remembered, though very distantly, the exuberance and enthusiasm with which Henry had carried himself when they were very young. Henry was often dirty from hopping on rooftops and hanging from windows, attempting to scale houses about fifteen times his own height, and most definitely he had gotten into trouble for his habit of collecting dead pigeons, one summer. He was loud, and wild, and excited for life in a way that Utterson never was, not even in childhood. Hyde was the same, in many ways, from his own penchant for rooftops to the immense love of life he held in his tiny, scraggly body.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>But crude and sluttish and sexual — Utterson still floundered, at times. Of course he knew of Jekyll's fling with the werewolf when he was nineteen, but they were young and still in university and Henry, then, was still very emotional and very honest, and not very gentlemanly and posh. Since then, Henry had made little mention of anything to do with sexuality, and Utterson had not pried — mostly because it would be a very awkward conversation. And thus, Hyde's sexuality, his openness, and how bold and crude and completely deviant and wanton he was — it made Utterson squirm.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>Even so, he and Hyde got along surprisingly well. Henry had told him that Hyde simply craved attention, freedom, and excitement, but also could be rather mellow and emotional and, well, rather cuddly. All that, he'd found to be true. Hyde was reckless, and insane, and had a way of persuading Utterson into thinking that perhaps, his loud and enthusiastic expression of his love of life was — beautiful. But also, and especially around Jekyll, Hyde was soft, and gentle, and though crass as ever, he could be reserved, and gentle, and loving. It melted Utterson's heart to see him and Henry together — a love forbidden and strange and confusing, but strong, and powerful, and beautiful.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>It made him freeze, however, the day he walked into Henry's office early one spring morning to find both Henry <span>and </span>Hyde naked as the day they were born, groaning in positively primal and filthy pleasure as Hyde bent over their desk, his back to Jekyll's chest, and Henry buried well and deep within him.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>Utterson froze at the doorstep. He could not move a single bit, despite the pounding of his heart and his pulse in his ears, and despite the sudden quickening of his breath. How was he to move? How was he to react, and what should he think and what should he do? He wasn't — wasn't very experienced in sexual matters. Or, well, more precisely, he had no experience at all, as he'd never once preferred women and well, any other option was simply forbidden. But seeing Henry and Edward in their throes of passion, utterly careless about the world and surrounded only by their lust and pleasure and <span>love</span>, he froze, and his heart pounded, because — because how was he to react? What would he do? What <span>should</span> he do?</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>"J- <span>John!"</span>" Hyde groaned, his voice keening and breaking and <span>much </span>more high pitched than Utterson usually heard it. Hyde's breathing was laboured, but Utterson could barely breathe himself as Hyde stared at him, his bright green eyes suddenly a deep reddish-brown, and alight with a desperate and wanton lust. "<span>Ah </span>— <span>nghh </span>— Henry—!"</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>Henry, at the mention of his name, snapped his head up from where it had been buried in Hyde's neck, and Utterson managed enough breath to gasp when he saw Henry's eyes. The two had made mention that sometimes their attributes switched, especially during intercourse when they were as 'together' as was possible while still being separate, but he — he did not expect, ever, to see the sharp, gemlike shine of <span>green</span> in Jekyll's eyes.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>He did not expect, also, the sharp smirk that came to Jekyll's face at the sight of Utterson, and the quick, violent thrust he very plainly made into Hyde, making the smaller man convulse and scream and making Utterson flinch and take a step back. "John, good morning," said Henry, in so deep a voice it made both Hyde and Utterson shiver, and he yanked on Hyde's hair so that Hyde was no longer bent onto the desk, and rather displaying the entire expanse of smooth, naked, and <span>bloodied </span>skin.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>Hyde whimpered, but made no protest, and instead moved his head to the side to plant a kiss on Jekyll's jaw. Utterson, for his part, stumbled backwards. And he wished desperately that he made a dignified exit, that he could claim poise and grace in the most unnerving of situations, or more shamefully, even that he'd stayed and watched, only pretending that he wasn't at all affected.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>But alas, he did not a single one of those.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>Instead, he turned. . .</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>And ran like hell.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p> </p>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>is this fic an excuse to write Hyde/Utterson smut?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>yes.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Shame and guilt, and a fear that Utterson can't quite explain.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been nearly a week, and the sight still would not leave his mind.</p><p> </p><p>The <em>sound </em>would not leave his mind. Try as he might, he could never forget, and he <em>did </em>want to forget, but whatever he did, the memory haunted him and thrilled him and made him burn with shame. The memory of Edward's deep red, wanton eyes and the dangerous, hard, thrilling shine in the Henry's green eyes; the sound of Edward's high, keening, <em>broken </em>voice as he groaned Utterson's name, seemingly not caring at all that he was being watched but rather — rather aroused even more by the sight of Utterson, the <em>thought </em>of John, and that memory <em>thrilled </em>him so and it—</p><p> </p><p>It terrified him.</p><p> </p><p>It <em>excited </em>him, and that was the source of his terror. For remembering Hyde groaning his name and Henry grinning at him alone was enough to make him shudder with arousal, to make his trousers strain and <em>stain</em>. And often, in both his daydreams and the dreams that filled him when he lay in bed, restlessly tossing, he saw both his friends in many similar situations, frequently naked and very, very much in sexual embrace, and sometimes he saw himself <em>with </em>them, also undoubtedly aroused and gaping with pleasure and longing and a terrible, terrible <em>lust</em>—</p><p> </p><p>Often, he woke with his bedclothes and blankets stained, and with a great, burning headache and heartache rooted deep within him. Frequently, his eyes stung with tears as he recalled his dreams, and as he recalled that day in the Society — it made him feel wretched. But he never cried.</p><p> </p><p>No. To cry was to admit defeat. And he was not defeated. He was not wrong. Not mistaken, not one for a vice that he well knew was illegal. It was not acceptable, it was unbecoming of him and he — he could not be  — be <em>aroused </em>by so horrid, and forbidden, and terrible a sight and sound and—</p><p> </p><p>Hot shame began to flood him. No. What was he thinking? He knew there wasn't fault in the relationship Edward and Henry shared. He and Henry both had studied ancient texts, and they both knew that such relationships had been there since humanity began, and he certainly wasn't disgusted to see Henry and Edward together, whether that meant they were perfectly fused and thus shared equally their attributes, or that they were simply curled into one another by the warmth of the fire. He adored the sight, in fact, and he always wondered just how that sort of bond, and trust, and love must feel so—</p><p> </p><p>—so why was he so disgusted with himself now?</p><p> </p><p>He whimpered and rolled over in bed. It was well past midnight, and near the hour of sunrise, but he had woken after yet another of — of <em>those </em>dreams and his trousers were straining <em>painfully</em>. But it was a mistake to move, because the sheets dragged against his aching groin, and he could barely suppress his gasp as he shifted again and spikes of electric pleasure shot up his spine. He shut his eyes and willed sleep to take him, but all he saw were flashes of Henry, of Edward, and of them together and of <em>him </em>with <em>them</em>, and he let out a choking sob into his pillow.</p><p> </p><p>It was with a clouded mind and great, crushing shame that he shoved a hand between his thighs and ended his suffering.</p><p> </p><p>He fell asleep quickly afterwards, but his tears soaked his pillow even as he let slumber carry him to the following morning.</p><p> </p>
<ul>

</ul><p> </p><p>It was only as he sat and ate his mediocre breakfast did Utterson allow himself to consciously shed a few tears.</p><p> </p><p>He — he felt — <em>filthy</em>. Disgusting, and dirty, and strange, and not in the bold, crass way that Hyde seemed to so gladly relish in, nor in the devious, quiet, domineering way that Henry tended to exude only around Hyde. And it made him feel even worse to realise that it was because of what he'd done, and because — because he was so disgusted with where his thoughts tended. He was no stranger to sexuality, despite never having no prior experience. Lanyon alone, from their college days, had many tales of the women and prostitutes he'd fooled around with, and though the discussions always made Jekyll storm out — either in jealousy or shame — Utterson had not once batted an eye. It was only natural, of course. Sexuality was a natural part of human nature. And it didn't disgust him, or arouse him, even now, to imagine Lanyon with his many flings.</p><p> </p><p>So why — why did it make him squirm so much to think of Jekyll and Hyde?</p><p> </p><p>Was it because they were, in all essence, the same man? Utterson thought not — he had come to terms with that fact fairly easily, and because it was quite obvious. He saw Henry in Edward, and Edward in Henry. And he got along quite well with them both already, and found that though he did easily see them as one in the same, he also very easily see their differences. No, that was not the reason.</p><p> </p><p>Which left him — left him with the reason that both were men. And he shuddered to think he could ever be — be intolerant, because he was not raised like that, and he and Henry were friends, dear friends, good friends, and Utterson couldn't be disgusted by <em>him</em>. No, his shame was for himself, and that made him shudder. Why should he hold himself to a different standard than that which he held for Jekyll, or Hyde, or Robert? Why — why did it feel so <em>wrong</em>??</p><p> </p><p>He was startled out of his thoughts when there came a knocking upon the door. His breakfast was cold, and so he put it away to see whoever had decided to come by. It was quite late, and Utterson had elected to skip work that day anyway, so he wondered who might have come knocking at his door.</p><p> </p><p>His blood froze in his veins when he saw bright, green eyes staring directly at him.</p><p> </p><p><em>At </em>him. Not <em>up </em>at him.</p><p> </p><p>Jekyll.</p><p> </p><p>Truthfully, he'd expected Edward to seek him out. The man, after all, was never hesitant, and never once shy to express himself. Even when Utterson had accidentally discovered the secret that could have ruined he and Jekyll both, Hyde had been fearless and confident even as Jekyll was cold and cautious. Hyde, always, was the charming confidence in Jekyll, but never fake, and never wavering. He'd have thought it would be Hyde who would approach him, confront him, or tease him.</p><p> </p><p>But his childhood friend, with eyes both ill-suited and perfectly suited to him, stared at him now with a gentle smile, and Utterson froze with his hand upon the doorknob.</p><p> </p><p>"Good morning, Gabriel," said Henry, and Utterson swallowed, because — because for a second, he'd wondered if Hyde had simply assumed Jekyll's form so that he could enter Utterson's house without being arrested. It wasn't unheard of; uncommon, yes, but Hyde had taken Jekyll's form many times before, even while they were separated. But that voice — the self-assurance in it, the quiet confidence and very well concealed danger — that voice was Henry's, no doubt about it.</p><p> </p><p>"Harry," Utterson answered, nodding, and then swallowed again when he realised that his voice had gone hoarse. Henry smiled at the nickname, one they'd shared from childhood when Henry couldn't say his own name, and both of them sat by the empty hearth to face one another.</p><p> </p><p>"I received word that you weren't at work today," began Henry, and Utterson could do little but shrug.</p><p> </p><p>"I — I've had something on my mind, unfortunately," said Utterson, and though he tried to look into Jekyll's eyes when speaking to him, the way he should, the scalding green in his eyes made Utterson shiver. "Why've you come here?"</p><p> </p><p>Henry raised an eyebrow. His hair was messy from the windy morning and his coat had been rumpled, but still in his every motion, he was deliberate and graceful and sharp. "Do I need a reason to visit a dear friend? Besides, we <em>do </em>have something to discuss, I think."</p><p> </p><p>Utterson swallowed. It seemed he'd have to confront the situation sooner than he'd expected, but despite working in law and frequently having to hold his own against lunatics and snakes in court, he still shivered to expect the following confrontation. "Must we?" he asked, hoarsely, and Henry nodded. It felt odd to the one uncertain and afraid.</p><p> </p><p>"John," Henry began, leaning back in his seat, "about — about what happened, in my office."</p><p> </p><p>A swell of shame burned in Utterson, suddenly, as he remembered his dreams and his thoughts and the night previous and — and he swallowed and stared into the cold coals in the hearth. It was too hot to light it. "What — what of it?"</p><p> </p><p>"You ran from us," said Henry, and stared at Utterson. "And then hid for us. Edward has been attempting to seek you out for nearly a week, and he's failed near every time."</p><p> </p><p>Utterson looked away. "I — I apologise. For watching you, then. And for hiding."</p><p> </p><p>There then came a white-hot, dazzling grin upon Henry's face, and Utterson froze to see it. Even on Hyde's face, he'd never seen such a sharp and decidedly devilish. "You'll notice, John," he said, that smirk still gracing his face and the <em>danger </em>in it making his dear friend flinch and shiver, "that I said that Edward's failed <em>near </em>every attempt. However, last night. . ."</p><p> </p><p>A chill came upon Utterson's bones as Henry leaned forth and studied him, stared at him, with his glittering green eyes both pinning Utterson in place and making him want to run. "Edward and I happened to witness something very . .  . Interesting."</p><p> </p><p>Utterson froze, yet again. He was finding that he very much did not like being caught unawares. And last night — last night — his breath stopped. "H- Henry," he stammered, his hands shaking and his head spinning, a violent storm in his heart that so very frequently was never there. He was always certain. Always quiet. Never afraid, never panicked and never tempted and — and yet now here he was. "I'm — I'm so very sorry. I — I feel — feel very bad for what I did."</p><p> </p><p>Jekyll's eyes softened, and Utterson saw the sharp green in those eyes dull and become their typical shade of gentle maroon. "Why, John?" Henry asked, and he looked into the dead hearth. "I — Hyde told me, afterwards, that perhaps I shouldn't have been so forward, you know. Said I might've been much more — shall we say, explicit than you were prepared for. And for that, I apologise, but—" here he looked up, and Utterson's breath hitched at the gentle concern in his friend's eyes, "—but why run? And why hide?"</p><p> </p><p>Utterson's hands shook, and he looked away. "I — I beg your pardon?" he asked. "I'm not too sure I understand what you're asking, Henry."</p><p> </p><p>And his breath stopped altogether when Henry reached over, and bridged the gap between them but gently laying a hand on his friend's knee. And it was all to gentle a touch, all too familiar, but all the same Utterson shivered at the slightest brush. He knew where those hands had been. He knew what they could do to a man, to Edward Hyde, and perhaps what he could do to Utterson himself—</p><p> </p><p>But then Henry fixed him with the most piercing of gazes, his eyes going straight up black, the perfect mix of his red eyes and Hyde's green eyes, and Utterson swallowed the sudden heaviness in his throat. "Why are you so afraid of it, John?" Henry asked. "Of us? Of being attracted to us? What's so wrong about it?"</p><p> </p><p>Utterson choked, just then, and a weight came upon his shoulders and stomach and made him tremble. Oh, God, Henry knew. <em>Hyde </em>knew, and they both knew, and just the previous night Hyde had <em>seen </em>him and how — how was he to explain himself? How was he to explain away Henry's question? It was no matter of being too ashamed to provide an answer, no — no, he didn't <em>have </em>an answer. He didn't know. He knew, logically, that he should not fear them, his attraction to them, for they seemed to reciprocate it and <em>there was nothing wrong with that</em>, but — but he thought of himself, and Henry, and Hyde, together, all of them, and he convulsed in disgust.</p><p> </p><p>Henry's eyes lightened a shade, towards the gentle, muted red of his usual eyes, and he gave Utterson a sympathetic look. But before Utterson could stammer out an apology, or an excuse, or some lie to pardon himself, Henry turned, and left.</p><p> </p><p>And Utterson fell to his knees.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>just wanna say that updates might be sporadic across all my works. college is fucking brutal!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>